


Trickster's Reward

by lian



Category: Final Fantasy XII, Song Of The Lioness
Genre: Crack Fic, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-16
Updated: 2008-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-01 23:23:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lian/pseuds/lian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The puffy-sleeved man cocked his hip and drawled, "A short woman with a temper and a kitten with violet eyes. The Paramina Rifts have become downright <i>dangerous</i>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trickster's Reward

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the otw_onlinecon LJ challenge „Blast from the Fannish Past", inspired by Xavie and Lenija -- for them, I chose _The Song of the Lioness_ as the past fandom. And back then I was playing FFXII and not succeeding in assembling all the horridly rare ingredients for creating the game's most powerful sword, so I had to sublimate my deep desire for the weapon into this story. (I deeply regret not including Basch's pant tassle into this story, though.)

........................................................................................................................................................................

Alanna was driven out of her mind with boredom. Her old companion and manservant Coram, who had once changed her diapers, seemed to think that she had reverted back to an irresponsible toddler and treated her accordingly. Yes, she had been as weak as a babe after her almost-lethal-yet-successful quest for the Dominion Jewel, but after three weeks in an isolated inn on the Roof of the World, she was as well as she could possibly get and brimming with pent-up energy.

Poor Faithful bore the brunt of her ill temper, since Coram zealously guarded her bed chamber -- this time, not from intruders (and oh, it hurt that Liam still refused to talk to her), but for preventing Alanna from setting foot outside her chamber until she had recovered.

"I am as recovered as I can possibly be -- I need some exercise!" Alanna had made this her mantra during the last week, and bit by bit succeeded in wearing out Coram's patience. She had taken up practice in her room again, pointedly ignoring her guardian's disapproval.

And now, when they were finally ready to leave and return home to Tortall in glory (as the days dragged on, the return had become increasingly colourful and triumphant in Alanna's mind ), the pass to the lowlands was blocked by a raging snowstorm and avalanches.

Faithful was huddled under a table, and Coram had long since disappeared into the stables as Alanna paced the low dining room of the inn, the serving girl the only soul braving her foul temper.

"Mylady, if you feel restless.."

"Ha! Restless...?! ", but only Alanna could here Faithful's high-pitched interjection,

"...then maybe a pilgrimage may help to soothe your mind? The west pass to the holy city of Bur-Omisace is free of snow and ice, and the weather is favourable. You can easily travel there and return by the time the south pass has been cleared. If Mylady wishes, I can provide maps and a guide...?"

 

~*~

They set out by foot the next day, the path being too narrow and rocky for horses, with only a map as their guide. Coram wisely kept silent on the pointlessness of the endeavour. If it helped his lady sustain her good mood, he would happily have made a pilgrimage to the Shrine of Saint Moogle of the Nimble Paws.

The weather was as glorious as predicted, and Alanna -- by now wise to the dangers of the cold -- was bundled up in padded shirts and furs, the Dominion Jewel stowed away safely in a pouch slung around her shoulder. The view was exhilarating: above them, jagged white peaks shone with the cold brilliance of a fierce sun, and their rocky, shadowed feet were bathed in the freezing waters of the Paramina stream.

While it was fascinating to watch the water move under the ice, the way it streaked the frozen sheets in dark-green hues, Alanna kept as far from the river surface as possible: she had almost drowned once when treacherous ice had broken beneath her.

Faithful had no such qualms, and took his revenge for days of complaints and sulkiness by slithering around on the ice and ignoring Alanna's pleas to return at once. When he tired of the game, he snuggled into her shoulder and warmed his tiny frozen paws on her neck.   
Alanna did not mind -- the black furball zooming around on the ice had spooked Coram so much that she could not help but be quietly entertained on is expense.

This carefree atmosphere was broken by the sound of commotion up ahead. Faithful heard it first -- his ears pointed forward, he meowed his confusion to Alanna.

"It sounds as if there's a ... large chicken around the bend, making a racket."

"A chicken? Are you so hungry you're already hallucinating?" Alanna laughed and rubbed his fur affectionately.

"No, I mean it -- and it's coming right at ----!" With a screech, Faithful dove into her overjacket.

A whitish comet streaked past them with the force of a gale, almost knocking them aside, onto the river ice. Alanna instinctively drew her sword and got into a defensive position, the rocky side of the path guarding her back, Coram at her side. The comet turned and -- swiveled its beaked head at them.

It was a giant chicken-like creature of magnificent size, its feathers of the palest gold, and it had fixed its fierce eyes right on them, preparing to charge.

Alanna had never fought an irate bird the size of a small horse before, but she at once drew into a fighting stance, quickly assessing its potentially vulnerable points --

\-- some kind of sleek projectile whizzed right past her head, hitting the bird-creature with a clatter.

"HEY. Hands off! This is our mob!"

Coram whirled around, his weapon trained in the direction of the voice.

A mop of straw-blonde hair emerged from the narrow, snaking path in front of them, accompanied by the sound of more running feet.

Alanna almost choked on her gasp of surprise. „You're a... a... half-naked -- child!" ....In the freezing wilds of Paramina, her reeling mind added. The tanned youth was clad in nothing but breeches and a metal contraption barely covering his chest, but he held his broad-sword and shield with confidence.

„No time!" Faithful nudged his head against her breastbone, his meows an angry command, and Alanna turned to face the more immediate danger when, suddenly, two more figures skidded around the corner, blurry with speed, ignoring her completely in their focus on the bird-creature that had, impossibly, begun pulsing in a slow, angry red.

In one liquid motion, a tall -- -- woman with --- rabbit ears – nooked and fired an arrow, while the boy sprang into action and launched himself right at the bird.   
Behind the woman, a man was outlined sharply against the snow, poised in tense concentration, his low voice carried away by wind and battle noise. Ringing ice exploded around the bird-creature, spraying shards of bluish-grey in all directions. Faithful made a frightened sound at the creature's piercing scream – it changed direction and charged up on the man in the background, knocking him down onto the ice. The -- rabbit woman was by his side in a heartbeat, her hands a in a blur of feathers and breaking glass.

Alanna was confused and alert, her heart racing, and Coram seemed just as disoriented – who were these people? They were far too outlandish to be mere hunters. And at the moment, the battle seemed to have turned against them -- the man was still down, the rabbit woman pre-occupied with healing him, and the bird had managed to corner all three onto the slippery surface of the Paramina stream's thick ice. Their backs were precariously close to where it broke off into a serrated edge, the river's freezing water churning in powerful currents.

Instinctively, Alanna drew on her Gift and threw up a wall of blazing fire in front of the group. It was only an illusion – hers was a gift of healing, not battle – but the bird reared back in shock and let up pecking on the sword-wielding youth, retreating away from the fiery shield... right into her and Coram's direction.

Uh-oh.

Coram swore and tried to move in front of her, his protective instincts getting the better of him.

If only she had anything to distract the creature, so that she could come under its belly ...!  
Without thinking, she slung the heavy poach off her shoulder and swiftly rotated it like a sling, aiming right between the bird's eyes. She let it fly not a moment to soon: the bird had recovered enough to climb the river bank and head straight for them, crimson in its rage.

The poach struck true with a dry thunk. The bird stopped short and teetered on its powerful legs, trying to regain its balance.   
Suddenly, and almost peacefully, it collapsed.   
No sound emerged as the mighty bird hit the ground – incredibly, it dissolved into tiny flecks of golds, dissipating into the crisp air.

Alanna stood slack jawed, but quickly regained her composure to face the group that was carefully edging off the ice. The man scooped up her poach where it had fallen down after hitting the bird-creature, and when he straightened up, she could see him clearly for the first time.

He wore the haughty expression she knew all too well from the indolent nobles at the Tortallan court. His close-cropped hair, crisp white shirtsleeves and tight, intricately patterned leather vest were a combination of practical and fashionable. Alanna took an instant dislike to him – being friends with the King of Thieves, she knew a rogue when she saw one. She made a motion to reclaim her poach, but Coram spoke up before she could.

„All that's holy, what kind of beast was that? And who are you -- hunters?"

The man and boy exchanged a pained look. Alanna was momentarily distracted by the rabbit woman who was joining her companions. She seemed completely at ease, but Alanna could not look at her fully without blushing. The half-naked boy now seemed downright modest next to the tall woman who was barely covered in flimsy pieces of filigree metal. How could she not be cold? Her long ears attentively flicked to the boy as he spoke. „ It was an assignment, a mob hunt. A dangerous bird monster was harassing the only passable caravan route through the icy highlands. We set out to take care of it."

„Well, they certainly seem to have lost their manners on the way." Faithful struggled free of Alanna's overjacket and jumped to the ground to inspect the colourful crew. The rabbit woman bent down and scooped up Faithful in one long-fingered hand.

„Hey!" Alanna protested. „He's not a pet --"

Rabbit woman ignored her. "The Mist... is strong in this one." she murmured in a slow, sibilant voice. Faithful purred, the traitor.

She was annoyed and felt contentious. „Either way. If there's an assignment, there's a reward. Where do I collect it?" Coram coughed.

The puffy-sleeved man cocked his hip and drawled, "A short woman with a temper and a kitten with violet eyes. The Paramina Rifts have become downright dangerous recently."

Alanna tightly gripped the hilt of her sword and narrowed her eyes. "You're one to mouth off, earring boy. Without my help, you would have been chicken food!"

The man sketched a mock bow to her. „Forgive us if the loss of our hunt does not bring us undiluted joy. Collect your reward from Gardy at Bur-Omisace, lady."

With an expression of blank innocence he finally handed back her pouch. The reassuring weight of the jewel in her hands, she nodded curtly and fetched back Faithless from the rabbit woman. A bemused Coram in tow, Alanna continued her way towards the holy city of Bur-Omisace.

 

~*~

Balthier raised one eyebrow. "Now, that was unexpectedly low, my dear."

„It's only fair", Vaan supplied unconcernedly."They robbed us of the hunt reward, right? So, what did you slip into the bag instead?"

„The Morning Shard. Right size, and its power is exhausted. It's not as if we ever use it."

Fran smoothly shrugged one shoulder. "Providing diversions is a necessity for us pirates, is it not ?" Her expression was indecipherable, but her ears were bent slightly, as if in amusement.

Vaan took the glittering object from Fran's hand and inspected it. His face almost couldn't contain his wide, crazy grin as he held the Dominion Jewel up high.

"Whoa, I can't believe it! _Guys -- this is the last piece we need for forging the Tournesol Sword!_"


End file.
